


Treads Upon Stars

by Nori



Series: Destiny [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: ???? honestly who knows not me, M/M, Space Magic, ayyy i'm back with another destiny au because i love/hate that game, daichi being oblivious, for various reasons, i guess, i'll add more tags as they become necessary, kuroo pining, kuroo really badly wanting daichi's attention, lmao warnings for me being a terrible updater and never ever finishing anything, violence typical of the first person shooter genre
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 18:09:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5058709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nori/pseuds/Nori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Chosen from the dead by the Traveler's Ghosts, Guardians are those rare few able to wield the Light as a weapon. For centuries they have defended the City. But that defense cannot hold forever."</p><p>Suga's using dark space magic, Kuroo really wants to get laid, and Daichi's just trying to do his job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Restoration

**Author's Note:**

> I can't stop coming up with Destiny aus tbh. I wanted to have this finished before I started posting, but I'm running out of steam and need some incentive. As it's not done yet, I'm not entirely sure how things will play out. Keep an eye on the tags! I'll update them as need be. This is a wip, so I might edit anything from grammar to actual plot. Who even knows. Not me. 
> 
> Also fair warning, Halo just came out and I'm 100% pure unfiltered Halo right now so who knows what I'll do with this fic tbh. 
> 
> Here we go... I hope you enjoy it!

Daichi lands on the Tower plaza already moving, thoughts swirling with all the things he needs to do before he ships out for Mars. There’s the Cryptarch, Commander Zavala, and Amanda Holliday for equipment; he’d like to swing by Eva’s little corner to buy that new shader Suga had told him about; and perhaps most importantly, he’d like to stop in the City to see the kids. Not that any of them are really children anymore, but it’s nice to check up on the people he and the other guardians protect every now and then. It does him a world of good when he’s out there to remember the faces of the people who can’t defend themselves from the horrors creeping in the darkness. 

His first stop is the Cryptarch, who gives him the same banal commentary as usual, and then down a floor to the Hall of Guardians, where Zavala spends his time. He stops at the vault on his way to the tower hangar to deposit some of the materials he’d picked up on Venus, then hurries through the winding hallway toward Holliday. He skips down the stairs into the hangar two at a time, ducking past other guardians rushing through their day, and very nearly slams face first into a familiar red clad hunter. 

“Whoa ho ho there, Sawamura. You’re hustling like Crota is on your tail. Take a breath, smell the flowers. The darkness ain’t going anywhere.”

“Kuroo,” Daichi sighs, rocking back on his heels to take in the full height of the hunter before him. Kuroo is an accident that never should have happened but Daichi is grateful for anyway. Sometimes, after the hell they deal with day to day, having someone warm to pull close and curl up with is the only remedy. The amazing sex? Well, that was just an added bonus. 

“In the flesh,” Kuroo announces, gesturing to himself grandly. 

“Do you ever actually leave?” Daichi asks, stepping around Kuroo and continuing toward the shipwright, albeit much more leisurely this time. Kuroo keeps pace with him. “Or do you like to waste all your time cooling your heels in the Tower?”

“Excuse me,” he replies, affecting an affronted tone, “I’ll have you know I just got back from a very strenuous mission on the Moon.”

“Helping Haiba run low level patrols does not count as a ‘strenuous mission,’ Kuroo.”

“Obviously you’ve never seen Lev in action,” Kuroo replies, shuddering dramatically. He slants a sly look at Daichi, who looks right back, and the two of them burst into laughter. As much as Daichi complains about his odd friendship with Kuroo (and complain he does--Suga has probably threatened to strand Daichi on Mercury 1,000 times for it), it’s nice to have someone like him around. Most days, there’s nothing Daichi needs more than someone to shake him free of the heavy weight he carries around, and no one does a better job of shaking him up than Kuroo. 

“Besides,” Kuroo adds, humor making his voice lilt in that particularly pleasant way, “Kenma would have killed me if I had left him to Lev duty on his own.”

“Ahh, there it is.”

“There what is?” Kuroo swings forward so he can peer into Daichi’s face.

“It’s always Kenma with you,” Daichi shrugs, pausing at the bottom of the staircase leading into Holliday’s little shop. Kuroo crosses his arms, frowning.

“Well, yeah,” he says, like he can’t imagine a world where things could be any different. Daichi bites his bottom lip, turning an errant chuckle into a cleared throat. 

“Wha-hey! Shut up,” Kuroo whines, shoving Daichi’s shoulder. Daichi focuses all his considerable titan strength on not budging, just to see the pathetic pout cross Kuroo’s face. “You’re so mean, Sawamura. It’s not like you’re any better, anyway.” He furrows his brow and drops his voice, in a truly terrible impression of Daichi. “Suga needs me to do this, Suga needs me to do that.”

Daichi laughs, shrugging helplessly. “Yeah... It’s Suga.” 

“Exactly!” Kuroo cries, nodding firmly. “So stop teasing me about Kenma.”

Daichi grins, holding up both hands in surrender. “All right, all right. Anyway, you coming with?” He gestures up the stairs before him, head cocked in question. 

“Nah,” Kuroo exhales, gesturing with a thumb over his shoulder. “I gotta go see Cayde-6.”

“Oooh,” Daichi laughs, “Special hunter business, huh?”

“Yeah right,” Kuroo snorts. “Warlocks are the only ones with special missions and you know it.”

Daichi hums his agreement. “I refuse to let Suga tell me about it. I honestly feel better not knowing what they’re up to.”

“They get up to some weird shit, for sure,” Kuroo nods. “But nah, anyway, my gauntlets are fucked and I was hoping my cute face would convince Cayde to gift me with a new pair.”

“Good luck with that,” Daichi snorts. Kuroo grins, cheshire cat wide. 

“Try flirting with our beloved shipwright. She might cut you a deal.”

They part ways with an exaggerated bow from Kuroo and warm, happy laughter from Daichi.


	2. The Buried City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of this mess. Hope you enjoy it.

On a top 5 list of Daichi’s least favorite places to visit, Mars comes in at a respectable second. 

During humanity’s Golden Age, Mars had become a lively, sprawling megacity. Sparkling towers, perfectly kempt roads, beautifully accented parks. Since the Collapse, Mars has returned to the stark desolation of it’s youth, dunes whipped high by strong winds and atmosphere unsupportive. Freehold, the last great city on Mars, is nothing but spectacular ruins, making travel through the Meridian Bay hazardous at best. The great, hulking skeletons of skyscrapers draw attention of all sorts, from the Cabal to the Vex to the guardians themselves. The crumbling towers, still reaching like a drowning man for the surface, are filled with unknown secrets. 

At least, that’s the party line. Daichi just hates getting all that sand in his armor. Hunters have those nice capes and warlocks have the long coats. What does he have? A butt cape. Who does that help, honestly? Daichi will never know. (He’ll also never admit to any shortcomings with titan armor--his pride could never withstand that blow). Luckily for him, his mission will take him down deep into the belly of the buried city, away from the sand and into the darkness crawling with creatures all too happy to tear him to shreds. 

Normally, Daichi wouldn’t venture too far off the beaten path on his own, but this is a specific request from Suga. He has absolutely no idea what he’s retrieving. It’s something his Ghost can handle, meaning it’s some tidbit of data or ancient, barely discernible message that the warlocks are just dying to get their hands on. There’s a good chance Daichi _could_ understand what new avenue the warlocks are pursuing, but there’s an even greater chance that Daichi absolutely does not want to know. Some things are unforgivable, the ends don’t always justify the means, and Daichi loves Suga too much to go digging for the truth. 

\---  
As it turns out, the simple favor Suga had asked of him--“just go down to Freehold Station and have your Ghost extract whatever is causing this strange static”--is much less simple with a Vex gate sitting a few paces off from the signal source. His Ghost can shut down the gate (given ample time and no interference) or it can extract Suga’s desired information (with a bit less time and no interference). Or, because Daichi is a titan to the bone and genuinely believes he should risk his own life to make the world a better place for everyone else, it can do both. 

Which is how Daichi finds himself deep under the surface of Mars, leaning against the dead hull of an ancient rapid transport train in Freehold Station and watching the ammo counter on his HUD tick ever closer to zero, keeping every Vex in all of time and space away from his diligently working Ghost. The Vex, believe it or not, are time traveling humanoid robots complete with a nice coat of gold paint and glowing red eyes. They use the gates to travel from point to point around the galaxy and through time. No one really knows where they came from, or when. Each rank within the Vex collective has a slightly different appearance, but the only important thing for a guardian to know is “aim for the white light.” Why the Vex chose to put a giant spotlight on their weakest area is a mystery only they know the answer to, but Daichi won’t complain. In the shadows of an abandoned train station, it’s a bit like shooting fish in a barrel. Very angry fish with guns. 

The problem with the Vex is that they don’t play fair. The Fallen, the Cabal, hell, even the Hive, understand that when a pissed off guardian clears a room, it should stay clear until that guardian moves on. The Vex don’t subscribe to that idea. They think it’s perfectly reasonable to send hundreds of reinforcements, eight at a whack in neat regular intervals, until whatever they’re fighting is just a smear on the floor. It’s a brand of stubbornness that Daichi knows all too well, being somewhat of the same mind in these situations, but damn is it fucking annoying.

The Goblins, little more than cannon fodder, are easy enough to deal with but the handful of Hobgoblins sniping at him and the towering Minotaur stomping around shooting energy rockets are kind of an issue. The longer he’s down here, the more Vex show up, and despite being something of a walking munitions cabinet, his ammo won’t hold out forever. Already his shotgun is empty, and his autorifle burns through bullets like Hinata burns through pork buns. His rocket launcher only had two rockets to begin with, and he’s loathe to use them before the situation is dire. His Ghost assures him the gate will be closed momentarily, but that won’t do anything about the Vex already here. 

Suga had warned him that the signal was of interest to other parties, but the Vex had never crossed his mind. Most of these hollowed out buildings were full to bursting with Cabal and Daichi had fought his way through the lumbering beasts enough times not to worry. They were powerful, but slow in body and mind, and decent aim at the weak points in their armor was all it took to kill them. Had he known he would be facing down the Vex, at one of their gates no less, he would have asked around for help. Tanaka and Nishinoya were always looking for adventure and would have been happy to tag along. Shimizu would have been a hard sell, but she wouldn’t have left Daichi to fend for himself. Michimiya was just back from a jaunt to the Reef, but surely if he’d asked nicely she’d have helped. If nothing else, he could have traded a few rounds in bed with Kuroo for some backup. 

Actually, that was a win for both of them. Why hadn’t he thought of that _before_ he left the Tower?

“The gate is down,” his Ghost announces, as close to stressed as it can possibly sound. “Extracting the source of the static now.”

Daichi takes a deep breath, gathers his arc power until white hot energy crackles over his body, and dives once more into the fray.

\---  
The sun is setting by the time his ship drops him on the plaza, some indeterminate amount of days after he set off for Mars. (It’s not indeterminate--his Ghost definitely knows exactly how many Earth days have passed since they were last here). He limps across the wide open court toward the North Tower, where Suga has agreed to meet with him. Normally, Daichi would take the time to change out of his armor, or at least remove his helmet, but he’s just a little too wired to do so now. Days of solitude, hours of fighting off Vex, what very well might be a broken femur, completely ruined armor, and a stress headache combine together to make him just a touch irritable. 

Suga is waiting for him under a tree, their usual meeting place, and lifts a hand in a friendly wave when Daichi steps into his line of sight. Daichi makes no effort to hide the limp, more pronounced with each step, or the scorched, sand encrusted wounds in his plate armor. Let Suga feel guilty for sending Daichi into a death trap to retrieve what appears to be a fragment of an address. The closer he gets, the easier it is to see the dawning horror and worry streaking across Suga’s face and Daichi congratulates himself on keeping his helmet on. He’s never been very good at staying mad at Suga, and his helmet goes a long way in keeping his imminent forgiveness a secret.

“Daichi!” Suga cries, closing the distance between them in three quick bounding steps. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Under Suga’s gentle hands and fear filled voice, Daichi’s anger feels brittle and thin. He pulls it up between them anyway, like a shield made of sugar glass. 

“Thanks for sending me into a Vex gate, Suga. I really appreciate it.”

Suga’s eyes widen. “There was a Vex gate down there?”

His face crumples at Daichi’s nod.

“Daichi, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know or I wouldn’t have asked you to go at all.”

Suga’s soft sweet voice is strained with guilt and concern, and Daichi finds himself releasing most of his anger in one deep exhale. 

“Whatever, I’m still alive, right?” he mutters, shifting his weight carefully on his right leg. “Anyway, I got your info.” He flips his hand out, palm up, and his Ghost appears in a flash of stardust. Suga smiles tentatively, mimicking Daichi’s motion to summon his own Ghost. The two star shaped constructs float around each other, and Daichi leaves them to it. 

“What happened to your leg?” 

Daichi looks down at his left leg, at the crack cutting clear through the plate over his thigh. He shrugs. “A minotaur stepped on me.”

“Daichi!” Horror and laughter in the same exclamation. Suga punches his chest plate gently. “And you went alone of course.”

“‘Of course.’ I don’t always go out by myself,” Daichi scoffs. 

“No, sometimes you ask me to come along,” Suga replies, whip quick and with as much sting. Daichi dips his head in acquiescence. Suga isn’t wrong. Daichi usually doesn’t ask anyone to come with him unless he expects things to get bad. “You have friends who’d be happy to go with you, you know. Do us all a favor and bring Kuroo with you next time.”

“Kuroo?” Daichi mutters, eyebrows climbing up his forehead so hard Suga should be able to feel the movement behind the faceplate of his helmet. 

“He spent the whole time you were gone wilting in all your favorite haunts and complaining that you didn’t even say goodbye.”

Daichi snorts. “He’s just being dramatic.”

“Sure Daichi,” Suga says flatly, rolling his eyes. They stand in silence for a few moments, Daichi convincing himself that Suga is exaggerating about Kuroo. There’s no way he’d care enough about Daichi being gone to _wilt_. Their moment is interrupted by a flash of light and the familiar sound of a Ghost vaporizing. 

“Looks like they’re done,” Daichi murmurs. 

“Yeah,” Suga replies softly. “You should get your leg checked out before you go to sleep tonight.”

“Yeah, I will.” 

“Good,” Suga says, nodding. “Okay?”

Daichi has known Suga nearly all his life. They’d met in the Cosmodrome, when they were both newly risen and awkward with their unfamiliar power. Learning how to be the Traveler’s soldiers, how to protect the last hopes of humanity side by side had formed a bond between them unlike any other Daichi has. It’s because of that closeness that Daichi knows that Suga’s question means several things.

‘Will your leg be all right?’  
‘Are we alright?’  
‘Are you going to be all right all alone in your tiny, sterile apartment tonight?’

Daichi shouldn’t say yes, because he can’t honestly answer all of those questions at the moment. 

“Okay,” he answers, confident and smooth. No one needs to know that he’s full of shit anyway.


	3. The Dark Within

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uncertain noises ????

Guardian housing is anything but hospitable. Most guardians live hard and fast, and die quickly. Those who live long enough to make a name for themselves, like the Vanguards or Lord Shaxx, must have something better, but Daichi doesn’t know what. All he knows is his tiny, plain shoebox of a room crammed in a hallway of many such identical rooms. 

Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling he and Suga had decorated with poorly drawn five pointed stars, Daichi wonders if he’d had an apartment like this in his last life. Had the Daichi who had lived before there was a Tower and guardians and the Traveler’s light had a ceiling with stars? A home of his own? A family?

He remembers being risen. The slow, disorienting spin of waking from a long, deep slumber. A permanent slumber, to most. He remembers how tight his throat had felt, how the sun had blinded him, how unwieldy and awkward his limbs had felt. His Ghost, welcoming him back into the world, cautioning him about the changes he wouldn’t be ready for, warning him about the monsters they needed to escape from. He remembers the blind terror, the frantic escape, racing across the snowy plain with aliens charging after him, praying for a way out. He remembers crawling through the shadows of an ancient, empty warehouse, holding his breath and jumping at every whisper and scrape he heard in the darkness beyond. 

He knows there’s nothing in this room with him save for his Ghost, sitting silent and unmoving on his bedside table. He knows the rhythmic scrape of metal on metal is his neighbor’s bed frame against the wall and the steady _thump thump thump_ is someone pacing on the floor above. The movement he sees in the corner of the room is just his imagination, jittery nerves from his run in with the Vex making all his fears tangible. He knows all this, yet his eyes peer into the unchanging darkness and his breath comes short and shallow. 

There’s a loud bang in the hall that has Daichi jumping, snapping upright and holding his breath. The movement sends pain ricocheting through his leg but he barely notices with the way his heart is beating so loud and so fast. It’s paranoia, an adrenaline high he can’t come down from. Around about now, Daichi would be dragging himself out of bed and climbing down two flights of stairs to bang on Suga’s door, but the thought of doing so now leaves a bad taste in his mouth. He’s not angry with Suga, not really, but the dark train station on Mars is still so vivid in his memory and he can’t quite swallow the bitter lump in his throat. 

Of all the people to have an awkward, quiet spat with tonight, it has to be Suga. If his leg was whole, he’d make the hike down to the City and tuck himself into the safe, warm quiet of Asahi’s little room, but it’s an awful long walk on a fractured femur, accelerated healing or not. Besides, he hadn’t told Asahi he was back, and breaking into the man’s home in the middle of night would likely give him a heart attack. Asahi is scared enough of the guardians, without Daichi making it worse. 

There _is_ another option, of course. A little room like his, with rainbow colored cartoon cats drawn along the walls, all the way down the long curling hallway, almost on the other side of the tower. It’s a room Daichi has spent the night in only a couple of times, and never for any actual sleep. 

“Hey,” he breathes and a spot of dim light grows on the table beside him. Daichi turns a small, tight smile on his constant companion. 

“Can I help?” his Ghost asks softly. 

“Sorry,” Daichi laughs lowly, reaching out to touch one rounded point, “but you’re not really an optimal shape for cuddling.”

The eight points twirl slowly around the circular core, what Daichi considers his Ghost’s face. 

“I suppose there are some areas where I am lacking,” it responds, cheeky even with such a flat voice. Daichi smiles again, a bit freer this time. 

“Wanna go visit Kuroo?”

“I don’t suppose I actually have a choice.”

“Not really, no.”

The Ghost sighs and Daichi swings his legs out of bed gingerly. “Just remember that you picked me, so I don’t want to hear any complaints.”

“And though I question your choices,” the Ghost responds, hovering at Daichi’s shoulder to light his way when he starts shuffling for the door, “I’ve never once regretted my decision.”

His Ghost disappears as he steps out into the lit pathway, but Daichi knows it’s still there, somewhere. “Thanks,” he murmurs. “I like you too.”

Daichi leans against the sloping wall as he makes his way down the hall. He passes a few other late night wanderers, exchanging nods or brief greetings with some. Others, those with haunted looks in their dark, sunken eyes, he simply passes by, unseen. He sends a prayer to the Traveler that he never ends up like that, lost in a horror of his own making. 

It’s slow going with his injured leg, but Daichi makes it without much fuss. He stands outside Kuroo’s door, wondering what he’s supposed to say and how Kuroo will take this for a few long minutes before finally knocking. There’s a clatter from inside the room, followed by a choked off yelp, and Daichi winces. Guardians are jumpy--he’d probably spooked Kuroo awake. He leans against the doorframe, exhausted and hurting, and puts on his most winning smile. 

“I was trying to sleep you know,” Kuroo groans as he pulls the door open, rubbing at his eyes. His normally bedraggled hair is even more outrageous than usual, Daichi notes with humor. 

“I’d apologize, but I’m not much for lying.”

At the sound of his voice, Kuroo’s hand drops to his side, and his eyes slide down and up Daichi’s body in one long, slow lick. His expression is a bit odd, shell shocked maybe. Daichi wonders if he’s committing some faux pas here and why, if so, Suga had never mentioned it to him. Kuroo’s jaw works, his adam’s apple bobs around a heavy gulp, and his eyes flick back up to meet Daichi’s. His cheeks are a warm pink.

“You’re back,” he says, voice high with awe. 

Daichi frowns. “Have a little faith in me. I’ve made it back every time before.”

“That’s not--” Kuroo stops himself with a shake of the head. “Why are you here? Everything okay?”

“Broke my leg,” Daichi says brightly, gesturing with an open palm to his thigh. Kuroo’s eyes follow the movement closely and linger on the light brace for a few breaths. 

“Of course you did,” he says, laughing. “And so? This is a long walk on a busted leg just to brag about your new battle scars.”

“It’s not even going to scar,” Daichi points out, because admitting he’s scared of the dark is too lame for words. 

“Battle _wound_ , then. Seriously, I was actually asleep for once.”

Daichi twists his fingers together, racking his brain for a good way to ask to share Kuroo’s bed in the most innocent sense. He almost has to laugh at himself. All those times he’s faced down death with nothing but a laugh and his own fists, but he’s too scared to ask a friend for help. 

“It’s just… my room seemed a bit too big tonight,” Daichi murmurs. 

“Ah,” Kuroo sighs, “I see.” Then he snags Daichi by the wrist and, mindful of his limp, tows him into the room. 

\---  
Daichi wakes up all at once. His body feels too heavy, his head too light. His skin is slick slimy with sweat but he feels crusty despite. His tongue fits wrong in his mouth. Everything hurts. He feels like he got stepped on by a Minotaur, which, if memory serves, is exactly true. Daichi stares at a red cat painted on the wall, smirking down at him, and heaves a sigh.

“Where’s Kuroo?” he mumbles, half into the pillow. He hears the flash of his Ghost taking shape somewhere above his head. 

“He left some time ago, but he didn’t say where he was going.”

“Did he bring all his guns with him?”

“No.”

Daichi exhales short and hard, and pushes himself upright. “Then he’s still here somewhere.”

He slides out of bed carefully, testing his leg before standing. The ache will likely persist for a few days more, but already he thinks he can walk without limping. He straightens out the bed, gulps down half a glass of warm water that’s probably been sitting on the table for months (what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and all that jazz), and raids Kuroo’s closet for one of the long, colorful cloaks he wears with his armor. It’s orange, which clashes horribly with Kuroo’s red aesthetic, so Daichi doesn’t think he’ll miss it. He wraps it around his shoulders, itching for something heavier as he slips out the door. It’s been a long time since Daichi has walked the Tower without the weight of his armor on. It’s a strange thing to miss.

\---  
The Tower is an exceptionally boring place to be stranded. Daichi seldom spends more than a few hours at a time here between missions, so he’d forgotten how dreadfully bland the place was. He’d hit the plaza first, dishing out Glimmer and Legendary Marks with different vendors to replace his ruined armor. He’d stopped by the postmaster to retrieve his mail (embarrassingly little, despite not checking for months) and checked with Xander 99-40 for new bounties. And then… Then he’d realized there was nothing else for him to do. He couldn’t run patrols, nor play in the Crucible, nor even mess around with the other guardians in the plaza, kicking around a soccer ball like children. Drained and bored, he’d climbed onto one of the large, solid banisters beside the staircase and flopped down on it’s grassy top. With the sun warm, the grass soft, and his body exhausted, Daichi had fallen asleep. 

When he wakes, the sun has dipped to the horizon, just barely touching the earth in the distance. He feels hot, Sunday morning slow, when he slips off the end of the banister and strolls across the plaza. There’s a commotion near the skeletal docking arms arching away from the Tower Watch, and Daichi heads toward it slowly. There’s a warlock leaning against the railing, body language screaming apathy about the whole situation, that Daichi vaguely recognizes as one of Kuroo’s friends. He steps up beside him, tipping a nod in greeting. The warlock (he knows he knows his name… if only he could remember it) answers with a small nod of his own, before turning his bland gaze toward the yelling. 

“What’s happening?” Daichi asks, following his line of sight. 

“Bokuto,” he replies flatly. (Aaa… Aaa… something. What is it?) Daichi realizes quickly that he needn’t have asked. Leaping about in some elaborate dance at the end of one of the docking arms, completely unphased by the long drop to the city below, is Bokuto, a titan Daichi knows through Kuroo. He’s hooting excitedly at the next arm over, where none other than Kuroo himself is seated, sprawled in the setting sun like a lazy cat. 

Kuroo, on his worst days, is admittedly still attractive. Kuroo lounging in the sunlight, accentuating his long lean body and the sharp angles of his face, is very nearly mind blowing. Daichi has felt those lean thighs around his hips, long arms around his shoulders, smirking lips against his ear whispering encouragement, begging for more, but he’s never truly appreciated how very stunning Kuroo is. He finds, wrapping his hands around the railing and swallowing thickly, that he is absolutely appreciating him now. 

He grits his teeth and drags his eyes away, surprised at the desire unfurling in his gut. That has certainly never happened before, not for lack of trying on Kuroo’s end. Instead he focuses on the massive globe hovering over the City, stripped to it’s frame and shredded like flesh around a wound at the bottom. It’s unblemished white surface is tinted brilliant gold by the setting sun, as magnificent as the stories make it sound. The Traveler. Not quite as spectacular to look at as Kuroo, but close. 

“Right?” Bokuto hollers, the only volume he knows, in Daichi’s experience. “Right, Akaashi? I was so awesome, tell Kuroo!” 

(Ah.. Akaashi!)

Kuroo turns, head lolling and hand raised in greeting, but his mouth drops open in surprise and his fingers freeze mid-waggle when he sees Daichi leaning beside Akaashi. Daichi grins at Kuroo’s bewilderment, always pleased to catch the hunter off guard. 

“Look, it’s Sawamura!” Bokuto shouts, waving exuberantly and jumping in place, giving Daichi minor heart palpitations. He might not know Bokuto that well, but he doesn’t want to see him fall to his death either. 

“I know!” Kuroo barks, not angry per se, but not particularly pleasant either. He jerks to his feet, cool and confident as he jumps from one bar to the next up the docking arm and over the railing to the plaza. Behind him, Bokuto scrambles toward the Tower, equally unafraid but no where near as cool. Daichi quirks an eyebrow at Akaashi, who simply rolls his eyes with deep mingled fondness and exasperation. Daichi turns to lean back against the railing, arms crossed loosely, and Akaashi cocks a hip against the bar beside him. 

“Sawamura,” Kuroo croons, smirk firmly on his lips. Bokuto bounds up behind him, half leaping at Akaashi and landing with his arm draped over the warlock’s shoulders. 

“Hi Sawamura!” 

“Kuroo, Bokuto,” he greets them with a nod each. He turns to Kuroo. “What do you do all day when you’re here? There’s literally nothing to do.”

“I’m looking at one thing to do,” Kuroo answers, eyebrows waggling suggestively. His fingertips brush Daichi’s bare bicep lightly. Feeling his face heat up, a combination of embarrassment and remembered pleasure, Daichi balls up a fist and punches Kuroo’s lightly armored chest. 

“Shut up,” he grits out. 

“Sawamura is hardly ever here,” Bokuto points out helpfully. Akaashi nods sagely.

“Usually you hang off the railing and stare into space.”

“Longing for your prince charming to return!” Bokuto crows, tucking his fists under his chin and sighing wistfully. Kuroo’s face goes pale and a little slack, and then he’s stepping toward the duo, wagging his index finger menacingly. 

“Knock it off, Bo,” he hisses. Then, turning to Akaashi, adds, “And don’t help him.” 

Daichi quirks an eyebrow. “Suga did say you spent a lot of time wilting while I was on Mars.”

“ _Wilting_?” Kuroo chokes, incredulous. Akaashi nods slowly, considering the descriptor. 

“You complained that Sawamura never asked you to come along with him, despite the fact that you’re always free,” Akaashi says, sounding disinterested. He might actually be disinterested. Daichi can never quite tell. 

“And you said that’d you love to go with him!” Bokuto chimes in gleefully. “Because he always takes point and you love watching his aaffp-”

Kuroo slaps a palm over Bokuto’s mouth, hissing a threat at him under his breath, before turning to smile at Daichi. Daichi drops his hands to his hips, quirking an eyebrow.

“You love watching my..?” 

“Nothing!” Kuroo damn near squeaks. “Nothing, I love watching nothing. Don’t listen to Bokuto, he smacked his head last time he was out patrolling and he has no idea what he’s saying.”

Daichi manages a stern glare, but it’s a very near thing. What he wants to do is laugh. Laugh at Bokuto’s eyes crossing and uncrossing over and over. Laugh at the edge of humor in Akaashi’s expression. Laugh at Kuroo. At the blush and nervous smile and forced laughter. He’s not sure what Kuroo is so worried about him finding out. It’s not like he doesn’t know that Kuroo likes staring at his ass. (Suga had pointed it out to him weeks ago). It was embarrassing at first, but it’s kind of flattering, now that he’s used to it. Besides, Kuroo’s seen him buck naked, so there’s probably not much to hide. 

Kuroo’s face is a lovely shade of red, but it also looks like he’s beginning to contemplate the benefits of throwing himself off the Tower. Daichi would miss him, in all honesty. He decides to take pity on him. 

“Whatever it is, it’s fine Kuroo,” he says, holding his hands up in surrender and smiling wide. “Anyway, I think it’s time to get food. Wanna come?”

Kuroo’s hands go lax on Bokuto, and a smile breaks slow and uncertain across his face. “Really? I mean, yeah!”

“Smooth,” Akaashi mutters. 

“I’ll come t-”

“No you won’t,” Akaashi interrupts, shoving Bokuto away by the shoulders. 

Kuroo laughs, sheepish and shy, hunches his shoulders and tangles his fingers in the mess of hair at the back of his head. “Sorry about… that,” he says, gesturing through the air. Daichi shrugs, starting across the plaza. 

“Don’t worry about it.”

Kuroo falls into step beside him, matching pace with Daichi’s slow, careful stride like there’s nothing out of the ordinary about it. They stroll quietly away from the plaza and into the more residential area of the Tower in their search for food. Kuroo drifts closer with each step, until their arms brush against each other when they swing. Daichi finds himself grinning at his shoes. 

“You gonna be alright tonight?” Kuroo asks suddenly. Daichi hums thoughtfully, mentally poking at all the old fears the station on Mars had shaken loose. He’s met with the usual response, the roiling acid fear in his gut and underneath that, deep down in his core, peace with his inevitable demise. 

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Thanks. And thanks for last night too.”

“Nah,” Kuroo waves him off, “it’s nothing. My door is always open for you.”

“Always, huh?” Daichi teases, bumping their elbows together. 

“Yeah,” Kuroo agrees, leaning into Daichi until their shoulders grind together too hard. “Even though you rummage through my closet and steal my clothes.”

“Orange isn’t your color.”

Kuroo laughs, and Daichi can feel the vibration of it through the press of their arms.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're confused about the setting and need to find out more immediately, try [Destiny The Game](https://www.destinythegame.com/).


End file.
